


party dying downstairs

by nightwideopen



Series: made in the am [3]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, House Party, Never Have I Ever, No Smut, OT5 Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Strip Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/pseuds/nightwideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>niall throws a party in the woods, but it's more than that</p>
            </blockquote>





	party dying downstairs

**Author's Note:**

> fourth part of the series. this was a.. rough one. skye helped me with a lot of this because it turned into zouis and she got all emo on me. but anyway this is a loose... interpretation of some of the lyrics.

“The defenders. The pretenders. The assemblers. The… Zayn, what else rhymes with _The Avengers_?”

Louis feels something small and solid hit the back of his neck.

“You're breaking the rules.”

The night is black and Louis can barely see three feet in front of him. They're underneath the trees, the moonlight barely filtering through the brush because Niall is an asshole that has to have a house in the woods that was built specially for parties. Zayn is sat right beside him in the treehouse, though, and they're sharing a large pizza. They were doing it silently, up until Louis started talking. Because Louis always wants to talk.

“Fuck the rules; I had a thought.”

Zayn tosses a slice of pepperoni back into the box because they accidentally took the wrong pizza. “Keep your thoughts to yourself.” Louis tries to smack him, but misses because he's kind of drunk. “And your hands, idiot.”

Everything's a bit muddled aside from Zayn, whose silhouette is startlingly clear. The strobe lights from the party are flashing behind him and Louis feels a small wave of happiness lap up against the shore of his lone island heart. He wonders if he makes Zayn this happy. He wonders that if for one moment he's ever made Zayn feel like life is a little less hopeless.

“I wonder if there's a single version of us that aren't best friends. Can you imagine one of us in another universe stumbling around without the other?” He leans his weight again Zayn instead of the tree, blames it on the alcohol. “We'd be hopeless.”

“Probably dead by now.”

Louis hums, and his eyes are starting to drop shut. “That's so sad.”

“Are you seriously feeling bad for a hypothetical version of yourself?”

“No." Louis shakes his head. “But that could be me one day. You know, just lost in the world. Louis sans Zayn.”

“Sans?”

“It's _French_.”

Zayn tousles Louis’ fringe. “I know, stupid.” He pulls him closer, letting Louis rest his head in his lap.

Silence takes over, wraps around them protectively and just lets them watch the wind jostle the leaves of neighbouring trees. The lights are off now, but the music is still playing. It's a slow, pulsing bass and dwindling, the party drawing to a close.

“We should probably start heading out.”

“No,” Louis whines. “This is our treehouse, Niall can't kick us out. We've claimed the ship, it's ours.”

The night air goes quiet and all Louis can hear is people stumbling through the woods to the main road, to where they've parked their cars or can call for a ride, begin the short walk home.

Louis doesn't think about any of it for more than a moment, chasing the warmth that Zayn is offering, wishing he'd brought a blanket.

“I bet there's a universe where we're kings. Our lands are right next to each other and we never go to war.”

Zayn takes the bait this time, eyes shut from what Louis can see from below. He doesn't know if it's from fatigue or because he's picturing their neighbouring kingdoms.

“Our castles could overlook a canyon where we send our enemies and we'd name our horses after each other.”

The leaves on the floorboards of the treehouse swirl in the possibility of what could be in another world. Louis can picture the kingdom in his head, can see the same moon that shines over them now. It'd be a world where nothing would go wrong and no one could tell him to do or be anything that he doesn't want to.

“Have you told anyone yet?”

Louis looks up at him. “Besides you? No. It’s terrifying, Zayn. Do you know the things people will say?”

“I’m not saying you have to. I was just wondering.” His voice is soft like it always is when they talk about this. “What’s it matter, anyway? You’re still you, I’m sure your _family_ of all people will see that.”

“I can't tell anyone.”

Zayn always told him that if he were a star he'd be Sirius. He'd learned in school way back when that it's the brightest star in the night sky, the center of its constellation.

As a kid, it was the coolest thing anyone had ever said to him, and as a teenager it was something that kept him going. As an adult, it seems as though it's all Louis has left to hang on to; One last bit of unconditional love and sentiment from his best friend.

Louis wants to keep being that. He wants to keep being the biggest and brightest around. He doesn't want to give up the one thing that'll give everyone the motive to pound him into the darkness. He's afraid, so beyond scared of letting anyone dull his light, or what's left of it. He's been so broken and battered along the way that he knows this one last bit of him will have him lost in space.

And as if Zayn can read his mind, “You're never gonna burn out.” The whisper sounds almost too loud in the quiet, but Louis half wishes Zayn would shout it until he believed it. Until they both believed it. “I won't let you.”

Louis pulls out his phone to text Niall for pillows and blankets and to fetch Liam and Harry as well. He thinks he needs all of his boys right now. Zayn's words are almost enough. He thinks–

“I think I wanna tell the lads.” He feels the need to explain himself. “I trust them, all of you, more than anyone. I don't wanna know how my family will take it — Mum will probably call an exorcist on me — and there will be some asshole at work but I know– well, I _think..._ I hope they'll take it fine, right?”

Zayn doesn't answer for a moment, just looks quietly pensive as he moves his hands from his sides. One rests on Louis’ chest and the other in his hair. It's remarkably gentle and he seems to be taking in what's left of their private moment.

“You know they will.”

Louis hopes that he never has to go a day without this.

“Maybe in another universe,” Zayn says, “You'd believe me when I tell you that it'll be alright.” They've both got their eyes closed, letting the night go on around them. “But you're stuck with me. This useless version of me that can't do anything but love you unconditionally.”

Louis is a lot less drunk than he was an hour ago, the pizza settled in his stomach and the depth of their conversation clearing his mind. But he still feels just as light, just as giddy with the moon watching over them and Zayn's words inflating his heart.

He reaches up and softly grips the back of Zayn's neck. His hair is getting long, longer than he'd ever like for himself but Zayn would rather die than lose their ongoing bet.

(Louis' going to let him win.)

In contrast to his gentle hold he has, he roughly uses his grip to bring Zayn's face closer to his. His hair falls over their faces hiding Louis’ whisper from the leaves and the trees.

“I'd rather be stuck with you any day.”

Their moment is broken by Niall shouting something about love birds. He's toting three pillows and a blanket and Louis briefly wonders how the hell he didn't fall to his death. Niall deposits the items on top of the two so he can assist Harry's uncoordinated limbs into the treehouse along with his own blanket. Louis doesn't know how it's even physically possible but it turns out to be.

Once Harry is on somewhat solid ground again, he flops over to Louis and starts arranging the blankets and pillows in a way that makes it obvious that they're going to spend the night packed like sardines.

It takes them a while, but they eventually get it right. Louis rests his head on Zayn's back, with Harry plastered to his front. Niall is on the other side of Zayn curled up beside him with his head in the crook of the latter's neck. Liam is sandwiched between them, on his stomach and breathing loudly.

And this is all Louis ever wants to know.

He grapples for Zayn's hand in the dark to ground him for what he's about to say. Zayn gets it, squeezes back comfortingly.

“It'll be fine.”

Liam perks up at that. “What will?”

And that makes the other two curious. Louis starts to sweat.

“I– um. I wanna tell you lads something. It's not really a big deal, but… I just don't want you to take it the wrong way or something, I–”

Zayn cuts him off. “Lou. Louis, don't say it like that. It's not a bad thing.”

Harry squirms. “You know about it?”

“It–” Louis nods. “He's the only one.”

The silence that follows is tense and awkward. But they can't be angry, or even upset. They are collectively aware of how close Louis and Zayn are, of how much time they spend together in close quarters losing their inhibitions and spilling their secrets. It makes sense that Louis would confide in him first, and Louis hopes they know that.

“Okay.”

None of them move, but Louis still feels all their eyes straining in his direction. The dark helps, feels safer somehow because maybe if he hopes hard enough his secret will stay there. None of them are completely sober, either, and Louis hopes that that's a good thing.

“So. I just wanted to tell you lads that… I wanted you to know — in case it ever comes up —  _that_. That I, um. Just so you're not surprised that I'm–” Perhaps he should've thought this out first. “I like boys.” He rushes to correct himself. “But, _too_. I still like girls, I just– I don't want you to freak out if I ever show up somewhere with a bloke or– Think that I'm after you or something. I'm _not_. It's just–”

“Louis.”

Harry's voice startles him out of his rambling, and he becomes aware of how broken his voice has gotten and how tightly he's crushing Zayn's hand.

“Lou, it's fine,” Liam says, “It's not a big deal. We're fine with it. Thanks for telling us.”

In lieu of words, Niall crawls over Zayn and tackles Louis in a crushing hug.

“You didn't have to tell us, really,” Harry explains. “You know we're all into weird shit. It would've been like you suddenly getting waffles instead of pancakes for breakfast one day.”

“Just because I swing both ways does _not_ mean that I'll ever eat that sad excuse for a breakfast food.”

Whatever remaining tension that lingered is broken by their laughter. Five sets of smiles, toothy grins and hearty chuckles fill the dark space. Zayn's hand is still firmly clasped in Louis’ grip, and Louis doesn't think either of them really want to let go.

Liam conjures up an electric lantern from seemingly nowhere and lights it.

“Let's play one of those stupid games we all used to play up here. For old time’s sake.”

“For old–” Louis laughs. “I say we do it. A good ol’ fashioned round of Never Have I Ever.”

Niall lets out a sarcastic huff of breath. “Thank God. I thought you were going to suggest spin the bottle.”

The four of them all reach over to smack him in various places.

They then proceed to force Liam back to the house for water and snacks. (It was his idea, after all.) And it's heartwarming how easily Louis feels 16 again, curled into Zayn's lap with Harry's head in his own. Niall passes out the crisps, the crumbs of which Louis will most definitely drop into Harry's hair and that Zayn will get all over his shirt and that Niall will get all over himself and the pillows. It's inevitable, really.

“Lou, why don't you kick us off?”

It's customary, the way they make Louis start the game and set the pace. Louis realises that they're probbaly the reason that he has such a superiority complex.

“And what do you suggest we do if we ‘have?’ Because I'm not drinking anymore.”

Harry smirks silently until the four of them are all looking at him. “Strip.”

“Perv.”

Harry shrugs.

Louis mirrors him. “Alright, strip. Let's do it. Before dawn, preferably, shall we?” He earns a collective nod. “Never have I ever…” he wonders what he _really_ wants to know, “Jerked off at someone else's house. Within the five of us.”

Truthfully, he hasn't, but it seems the other four aren't as considerate because they all shed their t-shirts.

“What the fuck? Whose?”

He looks at Liam first.

“Most recently?” Louis squints at him. “Yours, last month, when we all came over for Niall's birthday.”

Louis’ mouth drops open and his gaze falls on Harry.

“That time we wore girl's underwear as a joke.”

That was last week.

“When we all got together to watch X-Men with those pot brownies the other day,” Niall supplies completely unprompted.

“What the–” Louis is confused. “Why the fuck are these all at _mine_?”

Zayn snorts. “I did this afternoon before we left to come here.”

The game continues on despite Louis’ pouting. After a while Louis realises that it's strange how they all know everything about each other but still have the ability to learn more every time they get together. Then he figures out that they're all still growing and evolving everyday, with or without each other. So Louis cherishes this time where he gets to confide in his best friends, to have at least a few people that he can show his truest and most current self to.

They're all down to their boxers save for Harry who's three questions past reaching full nudity. He's asking all the questions now, floundering for anything interesting that'll have someone else losing alongside him.

“Never have I ever… Sent a nude photo.”

Niall makes a disappointed sound and shucks off his boxers petulantly. They all hoot and holler, and Louis graciously doesn’t bring up the time he was accidentally on the receiving end of one of Niall’s sexts.

Harry laughs, expression more mischievous as he leads up to his next question.

“Never have I ever _given a rim job._ ”

The absolute uproar that takes over the small space is akin to a group of thirteen year olds at lunch time, because Liam has joined Niall and Harry in the losers category.

Louis has to ask, “Christ, Payno. Adventurous much?”

Liam rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are red. “It was _one time_.”

There's a few more moments of laughter before Harry resumes trying to get all of his friends to lose a useless game. They’re all high on sugar and shit food, and none of them can stop smiling.

“Never have I ever… Felt the urge to… Hurt someone. But not out of anger. Just because.”

Louis wonders briefly what the fuck goes on in Harry’s mind, but then he feels Zayn shuffle beside him and he’s suddenly the only one that’s safe from getting a splinter in his ass. He stares wide-eyed at his best friend.

“What?” Zayn asks, seemingly affronted. “Like you’ve never done that.” Louis doesn’t respond, just gestures to where his own underwear are still securely on his hips. “Right.”

“Does that mean I win, then?” He’s then tackled in a hug by four naked, tall children. “Okay, I guess so.”

“You're so _innocent,_ Lou,” Harry points out sweetly.

“Piss off, the lot of you. Really not funny. Where's my prize?”

Niall plants a loud, wet kiss on his lips. “There.”

Louis grimaces, but doesn't have time to jokingly wipe his mouth before Liam and Harry are following suit. Zayn goes last, and his is just as short and obnoxious but much gentler. He always handles Louis like he's something that'll shatter.

“Thanks, lads.”

They all manage to pull their clothes on, mostly getting them mixed up in the process. If Niall ends up in Zayn's t-shirt and Harry's got Liam's socks on, they'll just blame it on the darkness.

Their five-way cuddle session resumes as though it had never been broken up, and Louis finds himself wrapped up in inexplicable contentment. He loves these boys, they're like family, they're his best friends. He's the luckiest man in the world.

“I'm so lucky,” he whispers in Zayn's ear, quiet enough for only them to hear. “I don't know what I'd do without any you. ‘Specially you.”

Zayn turns his head so that they're nose to nose, nothing too new but closer than they've ever been. Louis’ breath hitches and he wonders if he really likes boys or if he just really likes Zayn. He always laughed at the prospect of someone being in love with their best friend, never realising it until it was almost too late–

“Love you, Z.”

He can feel Zayn’s lips curl into a smile. “Love you too. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I think… I think maybe differently than I used to. Maybe more.”

Zayn nods, and he seems to know what Louis means. It’s a relief, that he doesn’t have to make an awfully embarrassing attempt to explain himself while he pulls Harry closer to his chest.

“You don't have to know right now. I'll still be here.”

And that's fine, because Louis knows that nothing is going to change. The boys already tease them for being half in love, kissing on the sly. Zayn’s his best friend, and he always will be no matter what happens, he knows that much. He doesn't have to pretend around these four boys who have given him friendship and unconditional love, a place to call home when even that felt like a lie.

The wind is softer now, the first rays of sunlight inching into Louis’ convenient view of the horizon through the treehouse door.

**Author's Note:**

> rest in peace please leave a kudos or a comment so i know if u liked it or not thank u much for reading


End file.
